


A Happy New Year Indeed

by LucreziaJames



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 07:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13002399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucreziaJames/pseuds/LucreziaJames
Summary: After Oliver drinks too much firewhiskey at the New Years Eve Gala, Marcus decides to take action





	A Happy New Year Indeed

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [ChampagneandCountdowns](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ChampagneandCountdowns) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> A certain Gryffindor has imbued in far too much firewhisky at the party and has to stay the night at this Slytherin’s manor.
> 
> With thanks as ever to my brilliant beta.

The truth be told, Oliver hated these things.  He would far rather be at home, pouring over Quidditch manuals and plays than sat sipping champagne, all fake smiles and making nice at the Ministry New Years Eve Party.  But Percy had insisted on dragging him out and quite frankly the lure of a free bar had been all the encouragement he needed.

 

Six glasses of champagne later, and Oliver was just starting to loosen up a bit, even cracking a smile at a quip Percy made as he appeared beside him at the bar.

 

“He’s here you know,” Percy murmured as Oliver ordered a Firewhiskey.

 

“Who?” Oliver replied, his tone bored as the waiter handed him a tumbler, neat on the rocks.

Percy flashed him a look that said ‘Really?’ refusing to answer such a stupid question.

 

“Oh,” was all the reply Oliver gave before sipping his drink.

 

And then Percy was gone again, kissing the arse of a passing Ministry official, leaving a frowning Oliver in his wake.

 

Oliver of course already knew that Marcus was there.  The two had been glaring across the room at each other all night.  Oliver continued to sip his drink, chestnut eyes unconsciously searching the room for those dark eyes once more.

 

“Wood,” the unmistakable rough voice greeted.

 

Oliver refused to look around.

 

“Flint,” he replied, eyes scanning the room for press. He would rather not read about their exchange in tomorrow’s newspaper, thank you very much.

 

“Double Firewhiskey,” Marcus called to the waiter tending the bar.  Taking Oliver’s now empty tumbler from his hands he called again.  “Make that two.”

 

“What do you want?” Oliver asked, feigning boredom.

 

“Nothing,” Marcus replied, eyeing Oliver up and down, his eyes lingering on his kilt,  lip curling up in a half sneer.  “Just thought we could have a chat.”

 

Oliver chuckled.  “Chat. And what would we chat about?”

 

Marcus shrugged.  “Quidditch. Our lives.  Gossip. You tell me.”

 

Oliver snorted.  “Thanks for the drink but I think I will pass on the chatting,” he replied, before stalking away back to his table in the corner of the room.

 

****

 

Several Firewhiskies later and Oliver stumbled out into the night air to stand on the terrace and watch the fireworks go off.  Marcus, suddenly by his side, looked far too sexy in his suit that left very little to the imagination.  Oliver gave him a sideways glance but this time there was no sneer curling Marcus’ lips.  Feeling a flush creep up his neck, Oliver glanced away, his attention suddenly grabbed by the explosion of red and green above his head.  As the crowd ooo’s and aaahh’s at the extravagant display, the countdown to midnight begins and Oliver feels himself pulled into the shadows, hands splaying on his torso as his own hands come up to grip the silky lapels of Marcus’ suit jacket.  Everything's a blur as lips meet in a heady kiss that reminds Oliver of the thrill of flying but he’s falling at the same time, the world spinning out of control with every caress of tongue.  

 

Opening his eyes, Marcus is gone and Oliver cannot help the pang of disappointment and grief at his absence that hits his heart.  

 

Oliver was imbued with too much Firewhisky and a sense of longing that had him scanning the room for Marcus.  But it’s Percy who comes to his side, not the impeccably dressed Marcus who is too damn sexy for his own good and maybe Oliver’s too.

 

“I’m going to take off.” 

 

His words are almost lost to Oliver who really isn't sure why Percy thinks he will be surprised by the fact that yet again he has dragged him out to one of these events and then take off with Theo Nott.  Distractedly Oliver hummed his reply and Percy disappeared into the crowd leaving a frowning Oliver in his wake.

 

Anger replaced the disappointment causing Oliver to stalk from the room, heading out into the night.  Percy wouldn’t be back any time soon, if previous encounters were anything to go by.  Pulling his collar up around his neck to stave off the cold, he stilled his hands as he felt Marcus’ presence behind him before he smelt the smoke of his cigarette as Marcus took a final drag.  Tossing the finished cigarette to the floor, he dragged his foot over it to stub it out as Oliver finished buttoning his jacket.

 

“What do you want, Flint?” Oliver asked, echoing his question from earlier that evening.

 

Marcus chuckled.  “I should think that’s obvious.”

 

“Well I am in no mood for games,” Oliver replied, somewhat curtly.  Turning on his heel, he stumbled on a patch of ice but Marcus’ reflexes were quick.

 

“Merlin, you’re drunk,” Marcus stated, chuckling as he helped Oliver to his feet.

 

“And your point is?” Oliver retorted as he coloured from embarrassment, trying to shake off Marcus and stumbling once more.

 

“That there is no way you can apparate in your state; not alone anyway,” he whispered, his breath hot on Oliver’s neck as he took his hand.

 

Stumbling as they landed at Flint Manor, Oliver emptied the contents of his stomach on Flint’s shoes.

 

“Nice,” Marcus commented before taking his wand and muttering a quick scourgify as Oliver wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  

 

“I think you could do with one of these,” Marcus replied, summoning a sobering potion which Oliver accepted with a scowl.

 

“You look sexy as hell when your mad,” Marcus commented as Oliver drank down the potion, watching him over the rim.

 

Taking the empty bottle from his hand, Marcus tossed it in the trash before pulling Oliver in for a heady kiss.

 

Oliver wanted to protest, but the truth of it was he wanted Marcus as much as Marcus wanted him.  A mess of teeth and tongues as each fought the other for dominance, their movements frenzied, they stumbled towards Marcus’ bedroom.  Once inside it was Oliver who had the upper hand, shoving Marcus roughly on the bed, eyes locking as he crawled over him.  He took his time admiring the sexiness that was Marcus, sprawled out, tie loosened, waiting for him to make his move.  Reaching out, Oliver took Marcus’ tie in his hands and let the silky fabric fall between his fingers, a glimmer of something in his eye that made Marcus harden with anticipation.  He swallowed hard as Oliver slowly undid the tie, giving only a cursory protest as Oliver brought his wrists up, tieing them in place.

 

Making light work of the rest of his clothing, it wasn’t long before Marcus was naked, causing Oliver to hum in appreciation as he drank in the sight.  Dragging his hand slowly down Marcus’ torso, he delighted in the sound of the sharp intake of breath and the way Marcus arched his back slightly.  Wrapping his hand around the base of Marcus’ cock, he gave it a tug experimentally and was rewarded by the sight of precum glistening on the head.  Dipping down, he swirled his tongue around, lapping it up as Marcus groaned loudly.  Cupping his balls, he massaged them as he licked the length of his shaft.  Taking his length fully in his mouth, he hollowed out his cheeks and began to suck with fervour, his left hand coming up to pin Marcus’ hips as he undulated uncoordinatedly underneath him.  Cursing loudly, he came hard in Oliver’s mouth.

 

Smiling, Oliver muttered a charm causing the tie to loosen and was rewarded by Marcus pulling him in for a searing kiss, moaning as he tasted himself on Oliver’s tongue.  Wasting no time, Marcus seized his opportunity, pinning Oliver to the bed with a growl.  Nipping and sucking at the exposed flesh of Oliver’s neck, he slipped his hand under Oliver’s kilt.  Giving his buttock a tight squeeze, he groaned into Oliver’s neck, “Fuck, so hot.”

 

Oliver chuckled.  “Wouldn’t want to forego tradition.”

 

Marcus reached into his bedside drawer as Oliver reached for his belt. 

 

“No, leave it on,” Marcus said, voice husky.  

 

As Marcus coated his finger, Oliver made himself comfortable on all fours.

 

“So fucking hot,” Marcus commented as he slid first one then two fingers inside Oliver, painfully slowly as Oliver let out a string of curses.  Scissoring them gently, he delighted in the way Oliver rocked back, clearly wanting more.  Reaching forward, he wrapped his fingers around the base of Oliver’s cock, smiling as Oliver cursed at the double assault.  Swirling his finger over his prostate as he gave a tug, Marcus watched as Oliver lost control, spilling his seed into Marcus’ hand.

 

Reaching for his wand, Marcus cleaned them both up before tugging Oliver to his side, wrapping his arms around him as he buried his face to Oliver’s neck.  Oliver smiled at the possessive hold Marcus now had of him, certain it was to be a Happy New Year indeed.

 


End file.
